Outwitted
by besyd101
Summary: When she finds her father disoriented and beaten, Kinsey finds that someone wants something of her father's. But what? What would a cooper have that others would search for? With the help of her best friend Ashe, they go into a world of mystery and suspense. Not to mention a group of outlaws and a very charming one too... Allan/OC
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHORS NOTE: I have updated this chapter for the few of you that have read it already. Be sure to look over what I wrote...so yeah. Oh, and in case you are curious, on my profile, I have links to what my character looks like! Please check it out!**

**Hey guys, so this idea sort of came to me while writing Vengeance so I thought I'd at least get the first chapter out here to see if you will enjoy it. This is, of course, an Allan/OC book. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and please, review!**

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It was a witchy house; the low-slung roof; that quiet dark wood; those squinting, shuttered window and the empty porch rocker that rocked, rocked, rocked day and night. Yes, it was the house that I and every other living being dreaded approaching. And, it was also my father's house.

I didn't actually live with my father. In fact, for a long time, I didn't know my father. He and my mother had been gone most of my childhood, so I lived with my grandmother. She was my only family up until four years ago when my father showed up at her house with a bowl of soup in his hands. We then told us of the village in which he lived: Nottingham. Though my grandmother wasn't exactly excited about my father's return and him wanting to know me, she saw that I was curious about him. Where we lived, it wasn't a place we would likely miss, so she took up residence in a house in a Nottingham village called Nettlestone-the same as my father. So, I lived with my grandmother and visited my father about every day.

Sighing, I took the door handle in my firm hand, turned it until I could pull the door open. The minute I stepped into the house was the moment I heard loud off-key singing. That was strange...

Slowly, I closed the door behind me, taking measured and unsure steps toward the 'singing'. "Um...father?" For a moment, the house went silent, frightening me. It scared me a bit, his response. My father definitely wouldn't ever be caught singing nor did he like to sing, and after me calling his name, his response would have definitely been a little more immediate on a normal basis. My heart skipped a beat as I stopped walking, waiting for his response.

"Kinsey, Kinsey, Kinsey!" He sang my name loudly. "I have no one else, but Kinsey, Kinsey, Kinsey!" If it was possible for a grown man to giggle, then that was definitely what my father was doing. Letting my guard down, I stormed toward his bedroom from where his voice was heard. I assumed him drunk which would make sense. The singing, giggling...but, my father didn't drink. He didn't like to.

Approaching his bedroom doorway, I stopped myself from advancing, taking in the sight before me. The jumbled room was a start. Wood boards were pried from the floor and thrown messily into a pile, books were pulled from the shelf they came from opened to many different pages, and the bed was moved four inches from the wall in which it used to press against.

This wasn't a mess that a staggering drunk could make. No, this was far more complex. Someone was searching for something...but what? My father may have been the scare of the village, the 'if there is dark magic in Nottingham then it's him', and the whole 'no one messes with me', but he definitely wouldn't have anything of high importance that someone would search for...right?

My father was a peasant. He was a cooper- made barrels all day! He wasn't a nobleman at all. Look at his house for heaven's sake, that was enough evidence. He couldn't have had any information that others would need. There wasn't a need that would be even slightly beneficial...right?

"My daughter's name is Kinsey, Kinsey, Kinsey!" My eyes flickered to my father. The sight of him made me gasp loudly. Apparently this person didn't stop with messing with the room. My father's face wasn't exactly a pretty sight. His left cheek was swelled into a blue bruise which I could assume came from a punch. His right eye was swelled shut and his bottom lip was covered in blood as was his chin. His shirt was cut open and jagged cut marks occupied his bare chest and arms which were sprawled next to each side of his head. Someone had tortured him.

By his stupid grin and his continuation of singing, I'd say they tried to drunk him into giving them answers. After all, my father didn't drink. Still...what could they have possibly wanted?

Instinctively, I moved toward my father, falling onto the bed so that I sat by his side. I lightly touched his bruised cheek which instead of cringing in pain, he only giggled. Apparently, he wasn't exactly feeling pain correctly. "Kinsey, Kinsey, Kinsey!" He sang once again. I frowned while drawing my hand back.

"Who did this to you?" As I suspected, my father was too disoriented to give me a straight answer. He smiled smugly at me.

"Can't say. They made me promise not to tell." I roll my eyes. I was going have to wait until he was sober in order to get an answer, wasn't I?

"Who?" He opened his mouth up almost about to speak before stopping. He grinned triumphantly before pretending to zip his mouth shut. Finding his apparent joke hilarious, he fell into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, my daughter. My clever daughter Kinsey, Kinsey, Kinsey!" Again, his laughs became more and more. Soon, that was all he was doing. It was okay though, I had already stopped prying, but my thoughts were filled with questions. Who would hurt my father? What were they searching for? Was it information? Money? What did they want?

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"C'mon Ashe." Ashe shook his head vigorously. "For my father," I pleaded, causing him to laugh. Since I had moved here four years ago, Ashe had been probably the most welcoming of the folks. Don't get me wrong, most of the villagers were kind, heart-warming people, but no one was as close as I was to Ashe. In case you are wondering, no I do not like him as that. In fact, I don't think I can imagine him as nothing more than my best friend. He was just enjoyable to be around and fun to hang out with. It was fun to get him into dangerous situations and him being mad about it.

"If you haven't realized, Kinsey, your father isn't the most well-liked man in the village. No surprise someone is after him, if you ask me." Ashe took the heavy box that was full of different instruments( harps, fiddles, flutes, kettledrums, etc.) in his hands and started toward his house. Ashe's parents were minstrels and the night before, they performed at a bar, however, their opening night wasn't what you would call welcoming. One thing led to another, and the bards took off away from the bar, leaving their instruments there. That left Ashe to go get them back.

"I know my father isn't that well-liked, thank you very much, Ashe, however, my father's room was scattered around. Everything was out of order and it was clear someone was looking for something-." Ashe quickly interrupted me.

"Oh, in that case, let me get my horse." He took a step towards the horses as if he was headed over to the horses before retracting his foot back and continuing toward the house.

"You're not getting your horse," I commented, causing him to look back at me.

"No. No, Kinsey, I'm not," he reciprocated. I sent him a glare that he didn't see before running to catch up with him. "That doesn't mean that someone was looking for something."

"Yes it does! Books were opened to random pages and the floor boards were pried from the floor. Do you really think that my father did that?"

"Yes." It was like talking to a wall, sometimes.

"Ashe!" He sent a nervous glance at me before he stopped walking. He turned to face me.

"Okay, well, maybe you are right. Someone is after something of your father's, but let's face it. You don't know your father very well," he started, his voice not as calm as it was before.

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't." He huffed a breath in annoyance. "All I'm saying is leave it to your father. It's his problem, not yours." With that, he continued toward his house while I paused for a moment in thought. Was he right? Of course not. Ashe was just being selfish.

"Yes, Ashe, but you forgot a very important detail." Running to his side, he glanced over at me and raised his thin, brown eyebrow. "He's my father. He is my family. I have to look out for him." Ashe rolled his eyes.

"He's the parent. You shouldn't be looking out for him, he should be looking out for you," he argued.

"That may be right, but I have to help. This person hurt him. I want to find out what they wanted-to get them to leave my family alone." I watched as Ashe did a mini inner battle within himself. After a long and painful silence, he finally nodded, causing me to smile.

"But, I don't want to get killed...or get in trouble," he warned, waving his index finger at me. I smiled innocently.

"Of course, Ashe. Wouldn't have it any other way."

**So, here it is. Tell me, did you enjoy it? Please, reviews are welcomed! I really would like some feedback!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys, sorry it has been so long since I have updated. I have been trying to focus on Vengeance, but thought I thought I might be able to balance out the two. Just a hint, Vengeance might be over with soon since I have already written the ending, but who knows how long it will take. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.**

Cloaked in green-a darker color that appeared almost as if it were part of the forest-like terrain, I anxiously moved along the forest floor, the cold pouring rain beating down on me as well. The forest, Sherwood Forest, wasn't the idea place in which you would want to be noticed, and I was thankful that the cloak provided such camouflage.

I took quick and silent steps, jumping fearfully at every small noise to be heard. I dreaded walking through it each and every day, especially toward night time. Sure, my grandmother's house was considered to be part of the village of Nettlestone, but it was still separate. A large part of the forest separated it from most of the village. It took a good amount of walking to get to and from the village to our house, and these were often the times when I wondered why my life had become far more fearful since I had moved to Nottingham. My father's house was enough to scare off any living being and his personality in general seemed abrupt and chilling to those who didn't know him well, the Sheriff who proposed unfair taxes on all the villages leaving me to wonder if my family would be alright, the dreadful forest in which I have to walk across each day home to bandits and only God knows what else, and of course, my grandmother who also had an off-putting personality that drove many to think her having to do with dark magic, though, that wasn't true at all. Many times did I catch her driving frightful children away from our house with nothing more than a broom in her hands. It wouldn't be hard to pass my eccentric family off as being deranged and delusional.

The sound of a blood-curdling noise whipped through the sky and to my ears. I immediately identified it as thunder after regaining my composure. A light cracked across the sky, causing me to stop walking momentarily, taking a chance to glance up at the sky. I definitely didn't want to be in a tree-filled forest with lightening brightening up the sky able to strike down any tree around me with fire. The forest containing wolves and bandits was enough, I didn't need the pouring rain and thunder ridden sky as well.

'_Crunch!_' I winced as I heard the crushing sound upon leaves a few feet behind me. I stayed in place, not daring myself to face whatever was behind me. I closed my eyes, wondering what creature made the noise. If it was an animal such as a wolf, I'd be done for. He'd have me before I even made it to Granny's. Still, I would think that I would hear some sort of growling sound if so. It could have been a small creature-like a rabbit.

"Well, well, well. looks like we've found ourselves a little mouse to play with." I let out a huge breath, feeling chills run down my spine hearing the raspy, gruff voice. Bandit. For a moment, an idea came to my head to bolt away, but remembering his use of the word 'we've', I knew there would be more. Larger and tougher men who could easily take down a small, young girl, but they could let me go. My family was poor, barely managing the taxes and food by itself. There would be nothing that the bandits could possibly need from a cooper's daughter, after all, I knew I had nothing of real value on me...or anywhere for that matter. It was one of the few advantages of being poor.

When I heard the sound of figures brushing against bushes, I knew that they had me surrounded. They were already creating a small circle around me in which I stood in the middle of, helpless to do anything. I pulled the cloak tighter around me as if it would provide some sort of protection from the men. Eight men. That's how many I counted. Eight. I couldn't make out any of their faces for their own faces were covered by dark cloaked hoods, only their grins visible to the eye. They were just as I thought, much larger than myself and far stronger looking too. Another booming sound thundered across the sky and as it did, the rain poured down harder, leaving a small stinge when it hit my bare skin with such force.

I turned to face the one that I assumed had been the one who had spoke, wondering if he was the leader. From the hunched over stances of most of them, I guessed he was since he stood confidently to his full height, not any less intimidating as the rest. Once the circle had formed, he stepped forward, moving closer to me as his followers shrunk the circle to fill in the gap that he left. I felt my heart beat faster in my chest, wanting to back up away from the frightening man but knowing there was an equally frightening man behind me if I did so. The bandit must have saw the effect that he had on for me, for his grin only grew wider.

I glanced toward the way I had been heading. My house was still a good ways away and it seemed I didn't have Granny to count on to chase the scary bandits off with her broom. I was on my own. The bandit took another confident step toward me and this time, I got my nerve a little under control as I raised both my hands up in defense. "Please, stay back." My voice wavered, my heart pounding so loud, I felt as if I could hear it through my eardrum. Could they hear it too? The bandit only smirked at my demand, glancing at his companions before speaking.

"Stay back? I don't think ya' understand what's happenin' her', mouse," he said, his voice calm and yet, threatening. His eyes locked mine and I quickly looked away from the dark and cold eyes, swallowing hard.

"I don't have any money nor do I have anything of value, I can promise you that." Somehow, I managed my voice to sound completely normal for the length of the statement, though, they knew I was scared. They knew they had won. The bandit let out a hard laugh, the others slowly joining in.

"How old are you mouse?" When I didn't answer his question, he answered it for me. "Ya've got to be seventeen at most. Ya're young with plenty of family who would give up everything for ya'." He paused again, meeting my gaze as everything clicked inside my head. I would have preferred him to rob me and leave me then what he was planning to do. Ransom.

"My family's poor. You wouldn't get much," I confirmed, watching as the corners of his mouth twitched into a crooked smile.

"I reckon it'll be enough." He reached out his hand, touching my cheek with his rough, calloused hand. I flinched as I took a step backwards, trying to escape from the man's reach. The leader glanced at maybe the bandits behind me before his eyes flickered back to me. A smile appeared on his face as I noticed that the bandit that was once behind me now moved to my right. Before I could even think twice, the leader pushed me backwards until I felt my back hit a hard tree, pain running up my spine. He grabbed at his pocket, pulling out something that made blood run cold. He had pulled out a sickle, a weapon I wasn't too fond on having so close to me.

"Of course, mouse, they'll need some motivation," he said, tilting his head as he studied my fear stricken face. "A few cuts on that pretty, little face of yours might work." He ran a hand through my hair as I pushed my whole body against the tree as he held the knife threateningly close to my cheek. I felt tears dampen my eyes, the pouring rain mixing with them. A small whimper escaped my lips as I heard a small chuckle come from him as he got ready. Then, he pushed the sickle's edge against my right cheek, sawing it back and forth slowly as the curved edge cut into my flesh. I gritted my teeth in pain, holding my face still as more tears streamed down my face, my breaths more rapid.

He laughed wickedly, pulling the knife away. A drop of water entered the cut, causing a stinging sensation to run through me as I squealed. I glanced at the knife that had a stream of red blood covering the edge. He held me in place as I struggled, still smiling. "Ya' know, mouse, you're actually pretty. Shame it won't be that way for long." He then placed the tip of the knife to the very edge of my mouth. The pain in my eyes must have been lost on him for he only looked at the knife determinedly.

"Please," I gasped through most of the tears I had been choking on. He only smiled before digging the sharp point deeper into my skin. This time, I did let out a cry which I heard his friends laugh too. This was their idea of ransoming? How could any living person feel the need to be so cruel to another? Once he had gotten the point deep enough into my flesh for his satisfaction, he began to twist the curved knife painfully slow, causing me to hold my breath as if it would lessen the pain. He continued doing this until finally pulling the knife away as I gasped for breath. He moved his hand to touch my face once again as I craned my neck so that my head faced the side. He wiped the blade clean of blood before taking my chin in his hand and forcing me to turn to face him.

He pulled his arm back, ready to slice my flesh once again when an arrow whizzed through the air, hitting his hand. He cried out in pain as he dropped the knife, spinning around to face where the arrow had came from as did his companions. He pulled the knife out of his hand with another cry of pain. "Who goes there!?" There was a silence as rustling in bushes came from my left. My heart fluttered, knowing that I was being rescued.

"You should know better than to pick on little girls," came the voice. My captor turned to face me, impelling the arrow that had once been stuck in his hand into the cloth that covered my shoulders and the cloak behind it, connecting it to the tree behind me. I jumped as he turned back, glancing at the arrow before letting out small cries that I hadn't let out before.

"I found 'er, ya' have no right to interfere," the bandit argued, taking a bow from one of his fellows while nocking it with an arrow. He studied the terrain around us, searching desperately for the voice. The voice scoffed loudly.

"No right? I think the girl had other intentions of walking through the forest then to meet with you." The bandit pulled the string back, nodding toward his friends to spread out. They all pulled out their own weapons, ranging from a knife to a sword. I desperately hoped that my savior had more than one fellow with him. The bandits became completely still, their eyes gazing across the forest. 'You still there or did you run, coward?" The voice called from my right.

The bandit spun around, aiming his bow in the direction in which the voice had came before releasing the string, letting the arrow whistle through the air until it finally impelled itself into a tree. Though my eyes were blurred from the tears that kept escaping, it still was quite obvious that the bandit had never been there.

A light and mocking laugh came from behind the bandits that didn't quite fit the voice of the first savior. More than one? A sound of a thud hit my ears as I made out the figure of the farthest bandit falling to the ground, a new figure standing above them. "Nice job, Allan!" granted the voice from before, now coming from my left. I heard much more rustling from different bushes until all the figures of who I assumed were to be my rescuers came forward, surrounding the bandits. Though I was already against the tree, I pushed myself as much as I could to the tree, knowing that a fight would soon ensue.

The lead bandit glanced at his men once more before turning to the first of my supposed rescuers. "Ya' don't want to do this," he warned causing my apparent hero to chuckle who glanced at his own men before lifting his bow up and smacking the lead bandit in the face with the wooden edge of it. The rest reacted to this by following his example, all charging at one another. I frowned slightly as I trembled at the thought of all that occurred. I could still taste blood from the small wound that the bandit had left. It didn't seem that my day had been going that well that day and all I wanted to do was cry, though, my heart fluttered at the thought that I may be okay for someone was trying to save me. But was that true? Was this just some sort of trick so that they could ransom me instead? If so, I should have moved, but I was too frightened to move and the arrow was what was keeping me in place. Even so, my fear outweighed any common sense I had left and I just stood, watching and quivering to myself.

One of the heroes(at least I hoped) stood taller than any of the others, my captors and saviors both. He must have been strong and skilled for I watched as he took down two of the men by only whacking them on the head with his wooden staff. They both fell to the ground lame and I could see him grin triumphantly from where I stood. Four down, four more to go. The one closest to me, a man who seemed smaller than most of his companions and less coordinated as well, awkwardly pointed his sword at one of the larger of the bandits. He studied the bandit in fear, but pushed it back as he leapt forward and knocked the bandit on the head with the handle of the sword. Three more to go.

Who were these men? Were they bandits as well or were they soldiers? I laughed inside at myself at such a silly notion. Soldiers. Why would soldiers help me? Unless they had another idea for me. I wasn't going to blindly give out my trust at the moment.

Two of the bandits surrounded the smallest of the group who stood a few feet away from me to my left. He dug in his pocket for something and though I could barely make out much in the dark, he looked to be a saracen. Finally pulling out some sort of jar, he opened it and threw it at the two bandits who cried out in pain once it hit them. "Ow, the devil!" the shorter of the bandits cried out, repeating the words 'it burns' as he and the other ran off toward the right. The one who had inflicted the pain stood as tall as they could, standing proudly.

The other of my 'heroes' approached the last bandit who stood confused. The bandit slowly dropped his knife and ran off. I watched with a little relief, but still fear from the new people. 'Don't trust anyone in the forest,' my grandmother's warning was still clear in my head as the group turned to face me. The pouring rain still poured down on us and the thundering sky continued to thunder.

Finally, one of the men approached me as the others began to move my former captors to lean against trees, ready to tie them up I assumed. As he made his way toward me, I tensed while I pushed myself against the tree once more. He approached me and in the bright moonlight that had somehow magically appeared out of nowhere, I could see his glistening blue eyes as he studied me. My heart thumped louder in my chest, unsure what this man was planning on doing. Nothing good comes from the forest. Was he going to try and ransom me for money my family doesn't even have as well?

He reached out his hand, brushing a strand of wet hair that stuck to my face to the side as if trying to reassure me that he was 'good'. I'm sure he heard the cry that I barely made out, because he immediately stopped while looking into my eyes. "Aye! It's alright," he began. He moved his hand to my shoulder as he pried the arrow carefully out of the tree, careful not to cut me in the process. Once he had pulled it free, I couldn't contain my composure much longer-I wasn't even containing it well before. I let out louder sobs as I wrapped my arms around his neck without a second thought.

"It's alright, it's alright," he tried to assure, wrapping his arms hesitantly around my back. It was comforting in an odd way, how I was so untrusting a few minutes before then broke down an went to this stranger for comfort. My conscience was screaming the words that my grandmother had said, but I ignored it. Why would this man be so helpful if he truly was 'bad'? I doubted that he was going to do the same as the bandits before, however, I still doubted he was some noble or some normal peasant. The clothing he wore was of rougher material as I could feel against my skin, hinting that he would be a peasant, however, it seemed odd that a group of everyday commoners would be walking through the woods in the middle of the night. That was enough to make me suspicious of them.

"Allan," breathed one of the strangers from behind us. I pulled away from his warm embrace as I wiped my eyes, ridding them of tears. It was the one bandit who hadn't gotten a chance to fight. I could make out some of his features. He had brown hair and brown eyes. He was taller than the one who had been holding me-Allan. The boy was young-younger than 'Allan'. He nodded his head toward me and asked, "is she alright?" I responded for him by nodding my head. Two more of the men walked up to his side, the one who had been teasing the bandits and the less coordinated one of the group.

"Well, those were horrid men," the less coordinated man announced, staring at the men they had tied to a tree. He had red, curly hair that I couldn't quite make out from behind his cloak. He had blue eyes that looked so...tired, if that was the word. I managed a weak smile as his friend who had been provoking the bandits that I could assume was the leader, walked over to me.

"You alright?" I nodded as he smiled. "What's your name?" He asked, looking at me for an answer. I glanced toward the path to my grandmother's house.

"Kinsey." I turned back to face him as he nodded his head in thought. He was handsome, as all of them seemed to be with mousy brown hair and blue eyes, though, not as piercing as the one's named Allan.

"I'm Robin- Robin Hood." He stared at me as if he expected me to be surprised. He frowned when he saw my expression didn't change. "Robin of Locksley." Was he someone important? Was this considered rude-to not know who he was? He did just save my life, after all, and the least I could do was pretend to know who he was.

"Oh, yeah," I say brightly, smiling again. "I know who you are. Thank you." He grinned while he looked over at his friend who was now scoffing.

"Why were you in the woods?" The voice was feminine and I turned to face the saracen who had been the one to speak. Definitely not a male if that was what she was planning on passing off as.

"I was going home-down the north path." I nodded toward the way I was heading. She glanced at Allan who stood a little behind me then back at me. "Speaking of which, I should be getting back," I reminded turning to face Allan. "Thanks," I offered and he nodded, smiling.

"I'm not bein' funny, but shouldn't we go with ya'? I mean, ya' did just almost get killed and all," he reminded. I nodded hesitantly, though, I was pleased with conclusion. Truth be told, I didn't want to walk all the way back alone and I think that they understood that.

"If you want." I say, flashing a small smile.

**Alright, so that was chapter two. I hope you enjoy. Also, please review. I liked most of this chapter when I was writing except for the last part so if you could give me some feedback, that'd be awesome.**


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